


LotR Drabble Collection

by mordelhin (gloria_scott)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_scott/pseuds/mordelhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archiving some old drabbles from lj for posterity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tidings

Late in the year, when the last of the lilies had been gathered to bloom in their earthen pots, and neither Tom nor his lady would venture down again to the River until Spring, there came a day of clouds and rain. And the water that dripped from the eaves and trickled down the stone path to the forest spoke of solace and renewal.

The rain carried Ulmo’s song, bringing tidings to the house down under hill…

_The ringbearers have passed over the sea…_

Tom’s laughter filled the air like birdsong. And Goldberry danced among the lilies at her feet.


	2. Peace and Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf POV

Frodo stirs, telling tales in his sleep. Samwise begins to snore. They will wake soon. Frodo has become what I foretold -- a glass filled with a clear light for eyes to see that can. But what of Samwise?

Faithful servant, loyal unto death -- he was all of that before. Frodo has prepared the soil of the Shire with his sacrifice. But it will be Samwise who sows the seeds of healing, and who lives to reap the harvest of renewal. He will become what he has ever been -- a gardener in a land where gardeners are held in high honor.


	3. Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gimli and Legolas go into the West.

Here I stand on the shore, the white gulls flying. My companion is already aboard the ship he has built to carry us on our final journey together. His step is as light and as ageless as ever it was; while my body, once as hale and solid as the mountains, begins to crumble. Tears blur my vision even more than age. Such grace has been bestowed upon this humble dwarf – to go into the West, and look upon the fair Galadriel one last time.

“Gimli,” he calls. “It is time.”

It will be good to see this journey’s end.


	4. Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo needs a holiday.

It had been a nightmare night again, and the voices in the hall were a welcome summons to the morning.

Hiding…ash filled his lungs…fear blinded him…he cowered beneath a slab of grey rock, almost hoping that this time, the malevolent gaze would find him. Just so it would end.

Cold stone slowly gave way to soft blankets, and he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Sun dappled the far wall and birds chirped below his window. The sound of footsteps retreating towards the kitchen reminded him of who and where he was.

I need a holiday, Bilbo thought.


	5. Nine Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf and Frodo meet again.

Even under the cover of night I can tell – the Shire is the same as when I left. There is some comfort to be had in constancy; but nature has never been wont to stand still.

I knock, the door opens, and he is beaming up at me from the doorstep. No trace of grey at his temples, no wrinkle or crease mars his face. It’s as if that damnable Birthday Party had happened only yesterday.

After nine years, he should have shown some outward change. But no, it is as I feared.

“You look the same as ever, Frodo!”

***

Even after the initial shock wears off, I can’t help myself for grinning.

That familiar face and kindly voice have been sorely missed here of late. But the marks of his recent travels are traced in the lines of his face – creased and worn like an oft-used map. And there is a wariness in his piercing gaze that I have never seen before.

Still, it would be stranger to have marked no changes in my old friend. Nine years is a long time, after all. He says I look the same, and I smile and answer.

“So do you!”


	6. April 6, 1482 (SR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam sends a message.

Sam was never fond of boats. Harbingers of danger and loss they were – all they had ever done was carry him into danger and steal his heart away. But that March an elegant craft with a high prow and an Elvish feel slowly took shape under his gnarled but nimble hands. Most days found him sitting by Rose’s bedside, especially when the pain was worst, singing softly to her and whittling wood.

When April came, Rose was well enough to leave in Elanor’s care. Sam assured them his errand would not keep him long. He took Elfstan at his daughter’s urging, and the two rode out from the Tower Hills at dawn.

A few days journey brought them to the Havens. The water was dappled with foam-capped waves; the sun sank low in the West, setting the clouds ablaze. Sam tottered out onto the pier alone and, stooping, placed his carved boat into the water. It was sturdy but small amid the vast expanse of sea and sky – a simple toy, bobbing on the waves. To Sam, it was a birthday present for one who had gone before, a promise of restoration and wholeness, and a message: Not long now.


	7. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry gets some unexpected help upon the Pelennor Fields

All is blackest night and piercing cold. Merry sees nothing, but he feels their presence -- creatures stalking him behind the night, waiting like vultures for his will and his breath to fail. His arm is limp and lifeless; had he not lost his sword he could not hold one anyway. His fear chokes him, and he is too tired to run. They will come for him soon; he will be lost.

Merry's feet slip on blood, stumble on metal and flesh. He falls to his knees, trembling like a rabbit caught beneath the shadow of a hawk. Dimly, his eyes discern a faint light in the distance. It grows stronger as a man of Gondor approaches. He is tall, and fair of face; his dark hair blows in the southerly breeze and a clear light shines from the white stone at his throat. He beckons, and Merry struggles to his feet and follows. Wet grass underfoot gives way to wet stone, until Merry can go no further. He sinks down into a doorway, and Boromir sits beside him, staving off the beasts that threaten to carry him away, until at last Pippin can find him and make him whole again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twig!pr0n double drabble. NSFW kind of.

It was a clear, cool night on the moors, and the stars twinkled brightly in a cloudless sky. Hal fell asleep with a bellyfull of stag and the sound of Folco Boffin's snores in his ears.

In his dreams, he sat in an orchard overlooking golden fields. His lips were full of the taste of sweet cream and honey; the smell of ripe apples enveloped him. The sun was warm on his skin, and he closed his eyes and lay back in the cool grass.

Something moved in the grass around him. Soft tendrils crept up his trouser legs, snaked beneath his shirt. His flesh was wrapped in a firm and undulating grip. A low moan escaped him. He shuddered as one probing tendril burrowed beneath him, seeking out the deeper warmth of his body.

He woke -- the sweat on his brow made him shiver in the breeze that now blew over the heath. The sky above was laced with branches. The moon and stars peeked through dark leaves that rustled in the wind, calling him back to sleep.

An elm tree on the North Moors? thought Hal, as he closed his eyes again and rolled over. Well -- that's rare!


End file.
